


Running to Keep the Pace

by BeemurBee



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: ASL Frisk, Bara Sans, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Gen, My First Undertale Fanfic, Named Reader, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Pacifist Route, Slow Build, gender neutral frisk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5693014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeemurBee/pseuds/BeemurBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been just over a year since you’d come back from your Navy deployment. you were attending a prestigious medical school for a degree in physical therapy, while working as a PTA at the local Veterans hospital, and competing in every cross fit competition and race you could fit into your free time. You were on the fast track to a good life.</p><p>Then a skeleton showed up and threw a proverbial wrench into your plans.</p><p>You weren’t sure if this was a bad thing, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions are Hard to Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for fic updates and pictures, check my [tumblr](http://phasart.tumblr.com/)

The first time you met the skeleton was a year or so into your return home from the Navy.

Jogging the park, for once without the company of your faithful sidekick, you came upon a disturbing sight.

A group of teenagers, at least seven, were standing in a circle and shouting at whatever they were surrounding. A monster, by the sound of the jeers and insults they were throwing at it.

You felt your stomach knot in anger at the sight and your feet started moving before you had time to even think of interfering. The sight of one of the teenagers raising a fist prompted you into a run.

Just as he went to let fly the punch, your hand wrapped around his wrist and you yanked his arm back, forcing him to face you. He didn’t have time to do more than widen his eyes before your fist slammed into his nose, breaking it with a sickening crunch.

He went down with a howl of pain, hands clutching at the bleeding orifice.

Every one of the teenagers attention was on you now, and you glared. Lifting your hands, you pounded your bloodied fist into your open palm and cracked the knuckles menacingly.

“I don’t tolerate bullies,” you said, your voice low and gruff as you filled it with a threat. Leave, or you’ll get the same.

At your height of six feet, you easily towered over all of them, and a life time of muscle tone flexed under your long-sleeved Adidas shirt. Even these teenagers were smart enough to take you seriously.

There was a beat of silence, and you half expected a tumbleweed to bounce by, but eventually they snapped out of their stupor and there was a mad scramble to grab their fallen comrade and flee.

You snorted at their mad dash, and waited until they were out of sight to examine the victim.

Er, vict _ims_.

One small human child, who looked no older than ten and had no gender-defining features, and what you assumed was a monster child(they were wearing a striped sweater, and you recall reading something that said striped sweaters were an indication of childhood in monster society). The monster child was yellow and resembled a dinosaur with no arms.

Smiling gently, you hid your bloodied hand behind your back and attempted to kneel down to their height. You still towered over them, however.

“Are you kids alright?” you asked softly. They stared at you for a long moment and you began to feel self-conscience. Had you scared them?

You didn’t get a chance to apologize as the yellow monster child's face split into an impossibly large grin and he started bouncing around excitedly, crowing about how awesome you were.

“Yo, that was so cool!” he yelled out, his exuberance had you chuckling slightly

“The way you just came out of nowhere like that and POW!” He kicked out, you guessed in an imitation of your punch, and ended up face planting in the grass. You immediately moved to help, but he was up on his feet before you could and back to singing your praises, shouting to anyone within earshot about how amazing you were and comparing you to someone named Undyne.

You found yourself blushing slightly at the compliments.

His exuberance was contagious and you were reminded of your rambunctious niece who would probably get along well with the monster child. Watching him begin a re-enactment of your ‘heroics’ had you laughing.

You couldn’t help but notice, however, that although the human child was smiling and gesturing, they hadn’t moved much. In fact, they were sitting on the ground rather stiffly and alarm bells went off in your head.

“Are you alright, hon?” you asked, drawing the monster child’s attention away from his display. He stopped playing and crowded you and the human child.

The child began to look nervous, but they nodded and moved their hands around in what you recognized as sign language. You weren’t sure what they were saying, however.

“You’re fine?” came and incredulous tone from the monster child. “But what about that guy who kicked you?”

“What!?” you yelped, almost surging forward to grab the child and look them over. “Where?”

The child rolled their eyes at their yellow friend, but dutifully lifted their shirt to expose an already brilliantly purple bruise climbing up their side and disappearing under the bunched up cloth.

“Oh, sweetheart…” you muttered, reaching forward slowly to inspect the damage. It looked incredibly painful and you hoped no bones had been broken.

Just before your fingers reached their destination, a blue glow wrapped around your body and you found yourself unable to move. A cold, sinister voice spoke from behind you, sending shivers of fear down your spine.

“ **Just what do you think you’re doing?** ”

Suddenly you’re entire body was jerked around, causing an incredibly unpleasant churning sensation in your gut, and you found yourself facing the source.

It was a skeleton.

About as tall as yourself, you could immediately tell, barrel chested, and incredibly intimidating(even with house slippers on). His eyes… the sockets, anyway, were somehow narrowed in rage and a hissing blue, flame-like light emanated from the left one, casting an eerie glow over his, frankly terrifying, grin.

“ **Lady, you’re in for a b a d  t i m e .** ”

He lifted his arm, also glowing blue, and you felt your body lift with it.

 _Oh shit_ , you though, tensing and preparing for whatever might come next.

The skeleton didn’t get a chance to follow through, however, as both children jumped between you and him, shouting at him to stop. The human child was at the front, signing rapidly at him. The sight caused him to pause and he watched them, now with a frown.

Dino child nodded along with the human child’s signing, and you took that to mean they were trying to explain what happened to the skeleton

“Yeah yeah!” the he piped up, his voice high with nervousness. “And then this lady showed up grabbed that one guy – the one who hit Frisk.” The skeleton slowly started to relax, and though the magic around you didn’t dissipate, you found yourself approaching the ground.

“Yo, and then she decked him real good!”

Frisk signed something else and the skeleton sighed. The glow faded from their eye and yourself and you dropped fully to the ground; years of training kept you on your feet, even if you wobbled a bit.

You decided to ignore the skeleton for now, as Frisk’s injury was by far more important. So you stepped forward to them and lowered yourself, relatively, back to their eye-level

You felt the skeleton approach, until he stood directly behind you, but did your best to pay him no mind(you ignored the fact that your entire body became more and more tense the closer he got).

He looked over your shoulder as you asked Frisk to show you their injury again. They obediently lifted their shirt and you hear the skeleton hiss behind you at the sight. This time there was no interruption as you gently pressed your fingers against the bruised flesh, probing for any broken bones.

They immediately drew in a sharp breath and you snatched your hand back.

“That hurt bad?” you asked. Frisk shook their head and signed something.

“You got cold hands,” the skeleton translated. You chuckled and shrugged.

“Well, most doctors do.” You rubbed your hands together to generate some heat and then returned them too the wound. You didn’t take too long to determine their bones were all intact.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly does it hurt?” you asked once you pulled away. They dropped their shirt and considered the question before holding up seven fingers. You sighed and stood up.

“Nothing is broken, but the bruise is going to take about two weeks to heal up,” you said, turning to face the skeleton, whom you assumed was the child’s guardian. He did not seem happy to hear the news.

“If you’d like, I have some children’s Tylenol in my car,” you told him, pointing to the near-by parking lot. Your niece was a rowdy child and constantly getting herself injured somehow, so you made sure to always have something on hand. “It should help with the pain.”

The skeleton seemed a little uneasy about the request; logically, you thought. You’d be uneasy too, if a random stranger offered your niece medicine. However, a short glance and Frisk, who was clutching their side and attempting to hide their pain behind stoicism, made up his mind and he nodded.

You smiled gently and nodded back.

“I’ll be right back, then. Please try not to move too much,” you added on, turning to Frisk. Then you turned and jogged to your truck – a black Land Rover Defender that you’d diligently taken care of for the eight years you’d had it.

The vehicle beeped as you unlocked it and you immediately dove over the back seat and into the trunk, searching through piles of boxes for your med kit. You were buried up to your shoulders in boxes when you felt something touch your ankle, which was still hanging out of the car.

With a yelp you jerked back and groaned as a box of something heavy – probably last semester’s school books – fell from the pile and bounced off your head.

“ _Sunova_ -!” you hissed, reaching up to rub at the bump it left behind.

“Heh, sorry about that,” you heard from behind and you pulled yourself out of the mess to see the skeleton standing behind you, holding Frisk in his arms. The monster child was at his knees, bouncing excitedly.

The children were giggling and you shot them a mock scowl, which only had them laughing harder. Frisk winced as the movement pulled at their sore chest and you sighed.

“Sorry it’s taking a bit, the kit’s buried under a bunch of junk,” you said, turning back into your car. It didn’t take much longer to find it, as it had apparently tumbled after the box of books.

“Here we go!” you said triumphantly, pulling the white and red box out. You twisted around until you were seated and set the box in your lap. Flipping it open, you quickly located the bottle of pills and pulled it out.

“I’m only going to give you one for now,” you said as you popped the cap and spilled one out and then reached behind you to pull a bottle of water out of the pack you kept stocked in your back seat. You handed the pill and bottle to Frisk and capped the pill bottle. You gave the skeleton a curious glance.

“Do you have some of this at home for them?” you asked. He blinked and then shrugged.

“They don’t live with me, I’m just their uncle,” he said and you blinked. “Do you know if  Toriel has any?” he asked Frisk, who thought for a moment and shrugged.

You held the bottle out to the skeleton who took it with a confused frown. You told him to keep it as you packed up the kit and tossed it into the back. He looked like he wanted to protest for a moment, but decided to pocket the bottle anyway. You pulled out a packet of sanitizing wipes to clean the dried blood that was still clinging to your knuckles before packing up the kit and tossing it back into the trunk.

 

“Thanks,” he said and you waved it off.

“No problem, I have more at home.”

“Still, thanks.”

Frisk took that moment to tug at their uncle’s hoodie and point at their phone. The time on the screen read 3:23 pm and the skeleton groaned.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. You climbed out of the car and closed the door.

“I was supposed to have these two home twenty minutes ago,” he said with a sigh. Then he shrugged and shifted Frisk into one arm so he could grab the monster child with the other. The monster child giggled hysterically and wiggled his tiny feet.

“Thanks for the help,” the skeleton said, his grin finally totally relaxed and genuinely grateful. You found yourself smiling back and waving as he turned around and walked away. As you got back to your run, you kind of hoped to see them again.

After all, you’d both forgotten to give your names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a big thank you to everyone who read this.
> 
> This Reader is not a general one, they are a self-insert based off myself; or what I'm aiming to become. As such, they may not be relatable to every reader. Still, I appreciate you at least giving this story a chance and I hope you will continue to read.
> 
> Lastly, I have no clue where this story is going, aside from a few scenes I know I want to write. Please bear with my, I’ll figure out a plot sooner or later. If any of you have any ideas you want to throw my way, I'd be more than happy to take them under consideration.
> 
> Again, thank you so much.
> 
> -Phaser <3


	2. Haircuts and Second Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your niece is in trouble at school and you see a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for fic updates and pictures, check my [tumblr](http://phasart.tumblr.com/)

It had been about a month since your meeting with the skeleton and the two children, and while they had crossed your mind a few times, your hectic life kept you too busy to dwell on them and eventually the memory faded. So it came as a bit of a surprise when you ran into him and Frisk at your niece's school, of all places.

 

You were there to pick up Abigail, you brother's ten year-old daughter, from detention. The girl had gotten into a fight with another student and, apparently, physically assaulted him. The principal hadn't given you all the details when he'd called, which was irritating enough in and of itself, and had implied with his tone that he believed Abby to be at fault for whatever had gone down.

 

But you knew your niece, and there was no way she'd attack someone for no reason.

 

So it was with a scowl that you stormed past the school secretary, ignoring her indignant yelp, and into Mr. Pachis' office. You saw him first, sitting back in his leather desk chair with his hands steepled in front of his pinched, perpetually smug little face. His beady gray eyes, which had been focused intently on Abby, moved to you and you had to resist commenting on the way they roved over your body. You weren't here to call out perverts, you were here for your niece. Your niece, who was sitting in one of those plastic cushioned chairs you always hated when you were in school, with eyes red from the tears still flowing down her cheeks.

 

You felt anger begin to roil in your gut.

 

“What did he do?” you finally asked, voice deceptively calm. The question seemed to catch Pachis off-guard, as his eyes widened in confusion and his hands lowered towards his lap. Apparently he'd expected some other question.

 

“I'm sorry?” he asked, and you just barely kept yourself from snapping back. You took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

 

“It's a simple question, Mr. Pachis. One the headmaster of such a prestigious private school can surely understand,” you snarked.

 

The confusion was quickly replaced with indignation and only Abby's scared flinch kept you from laughing at the childish way that he slammed his hands on the desk when he stood.

 

“Now see here-”

 

“I wont ask again, what did the boy do?” you interrupted, this time allowing a little anger through as you practically growled the question out. You were not in the mood to deal with his tantrums.

 

He glared at you, projecting every ounce of authority he possessed into the hostile stare. You didn't so much as blink; he had nothing on your boot camp drill sergeants.

 

Finally he gave up and, with a huff, sat down again. He kept his back straight this time and he turned the chair to face you, keeping Abby in his peripheral.

 

“He played a silly little prank on her, nothing more. Abigail had a rather... violent reaction to it. Which is the cusp of the problem, Ms. Clark. She'll be suspended for five days,” he answered at last, leveling you with a heavy stare that told you that he believed you were the reason for Abby's violent outburst. As if you were a bad influence.

 

Your mind flashed back to the incident at the park last month and you had to admit, there may have been a point in the silent accusation. Still, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Instead, you turned your gaze to Abby, who gave you the most pitiful, hang-dog look you'd ever seen.

 

You would burn whoever had put that look there, starting with Pachis.

 

“Is that what happened, Abby?” you asked. You didn't believe it was the whole truth, as you knew Abby was never the kind to lash out violently unless seriously provoked.

 

She shook her head and sniffled, rubbing her red nose on her sleeve. The sight made you feel a little green...

 

“Charlie cut my hair,” she told you, dropping her hands to grip at the hem of her shirt tightly. She twisted the fabric and avoided looking at you, as though she believed you might blame her the same way her teachers had. You frowned and leaned back to get a good look at her hair.

 

Directly on the back of her head was a large chunk of badly cut hair, sticking out, away from her head and looking quite odd against the rest of the long, straight locks. Your angry glare snapped back to Mr. Pachis.

 

“I assume he'll be getting punished as well?” you snapped, your fave tight with anger. No wonder Abby had punched the boy, You would've done the same.

 

“For a prank?” Mr. Pachis asked, blinking bewilderedly, as though the very _idea_ that the boy should be punished was unthinkable.

 

“A prank? He invaded her personal space and _violated_ it, and you call that a _prank_?” you spat, leaning forward and putting your hands on the edge of his desk. Your glare was far more effective than his and you almost grinned when he started sweating.

 

"If he were a grown man I could have him arrested for  _assault_." You considered doing it anyway.

 

“W-well, I, um,” he stuttered, shakily wiping the sweat away with a handkerchief.

 

“I expect something to be done about him. If there's not you'll have her father to answer to,” you said before he could get a full sentence out. Your brother was one of the biggest doners the school had, and they'd be in boiling water if he stopped. You and he were not close by any means, but you knew he would never allow this transgression to go unpunished.

 

“I'll be informing Alex of _everything_ that's happened here today, and you can discuss the issue further with him. Now, I'll be taking my niece home and you'll be lucky if she comes back. Come on, Abby.”

 

Abby slid out of her chair, grabbed the book bag by her feet, and followed you as you stormed out of the office. You waited for her to catch up at the end of the hall, and when she did you pulled her into a hug and lifted her up.

 

She wrapped her arms around your neck and cried into your shoulder while you rubbed her back and whispered soothing words into her ear as you stood there. She was inconsolable.

 

You sighed. Your poor niece was never very sociable, and the bullying she suffered had sent her crying to you more than once. You couldn't count the number of times she'd come running into your house, looking for some comfort.

 

Part of you wanted to strangle your brother for not comforting his daughter himself. Just like when you were a child, he was far to busy for childish nonsense like that...

 

You stood in that hallway, with Abby in your arms, for what seemed like ages. Eventually, the tears stopped and Abby started to doze against your shoulder. You took the book bag from her slack grip, slung it over your free shoulder, and headed for the exit.

 

“What d'you say to mac n' cheese for dinner?” you asked quietly.

 

“With bacon?” she murmured back, stirring slightly at the prospect of her favorite meal.

 

“With bacon,” you agreed.

 

“And ice cream for dessert?” Now the tiredness was wearing off and she was getting excited. You chuckled and nodded.

 

“Sure, sounds like a plan.”

 

You pushed open the school doors and stopped in shock. Standing just a few yards away was a very familiar skeleton. Abby lifted her head curiously when she felt you stop.

 

“Who's that?” she asked, loud enough to catch the skeleton's attention. You were curious about why he was at a school of all places until you saw Frisk peek out from behind him.

 

“Hey,” he said, waving. You grinned and walked up to him.

 

“Hey,” you said back. You waved down to Frisk as well, who beamed at you.

 

“How you doin', short stack?” you asked. They gave you two thumbs up and you chuckled.

 

“The bruise disappeared last week,” the skeleton said, relief evident in his voice.

 

“That's good to hear. So what are you two doing out here?” you asked. It was after school hours and no one else was around, so you were curious as to why Frisk and their uncle were just hanging around.

 

“I _kid_ ask you the same thing,” the skeleton said with a smirk, eyeing Abby with good humor. You snorted and Abby giggled.

 

“Abby got into some trouble for punching another student,” you said, failing to keep the pride out of your voice.

 

“Speaking of, how bad was the damage?” you asked her, watching the smile morph into a smug grin.

 

“I broke his nose!” she cheered. You looked up at the skeleton when you heard him chuckle.

 

“What'd he do?” he asked. Abby scowled and tugged on the short hair. She didn't need to say anything, he got it right away. He frowned.

 

“They gonna do something about it?” he asked. You huffed and shifted Abby's weight, she was not a light load.

 

“They will if they know what's good for them,” you told him. He snorted this time and nodded.

 

“We're waiting for my brother,” he said, changing the subject back to the original topic. “He's supposed to pick us up, but he's running late.”

 

Frisk looked up at him and signed something. He laughed and nodded, but didn't respond otherwise and you could admit you were curious.

 

“What was that?” Abby asked before you could stop her.

 

“It's sign language, kid,” he said. He put his hand on Frisk's head and ruffled their hair, chuckling at the indignant look they gave him for it.

 

“Frisk can't talk out loud, so they use their hands.” Abby's mouth made an 'o' and she nodded. You could tell from the curious look in her eyes that she'd be wanting to learn it.

 

“What did they say?” Abby asked. He gave her a sly grin and raised his eyesbrows(or, sockets anyway – it was a little weird, you decided).

 

“They called him a _bone_ head,” he said. Abby's giggle had him beaming.

 

“Do you need a ride?” you asked, chuckling along with Abby. The skeleton's brow ridges shot up even as Frisk bounced happily; they would much rather hitch a ride than wait or walk. They were _bored_.

 

“Why?” he asked. His hands were in his pockets and he seemed wary to accept a ride, you two were virtually strangers after all. You didn't even know each others' names. You, however, were never one to care about that. If someone needed help you could provide, why would you do otherwise?

 

“Would you rather stand out here for who knows how long?” you asked, keeping your thoughts silent. Frisk shook their head rapidly, but their uncle still seemed wary. Abby yawned and leaned against your shoulder as she watched them.

 

Frisk yanked on the skeleton's sleeve and, when he looked down, started signing grumpily. He hesitated for another moment, but then sighed and shrugged.

 

“Alright, you're the boss,” he said. He ran his hand through their hair _again_ , much to their ever-growing irritation. It didn't stop the triumphant grin from splitting their face, though.

 

Both of them looked expectantly at you and you chuckled, gesturing towards the parking lot where your mud-covered Defender stood out starkly against shiny, well kept sedans.

 

The four of you approached your baby and somehow the skeleton had reached it before you – though you could have sworn he was just behind you. You couldn't hold back a laugh when he reached for the back door and then jumped away with a startled yelp.

 

Clouseau, an old blood hound that had previously belonged to a deceased friend and your favorite running partner, barked loudly at him from the back seat. He was jumping all over the back seat and trying to shove his snout through the two-inch crack in the window.

 

“Sorry,” you said, chuckling at the adorable blue blush that spread across his cheeks. The poor guy looked so embarrassed, you couldn't help but feel a little bad. “That's Clouseau, he's all bark and no bite.”

 

“Nearly gave me a _doggone_ heart attack,” he muttered, resting his hand on his chest and trying to calm himself. You wondered if he even _had_ a heart, and you found yourself slightly disappointed to see his blush fade away.

 

“Aw, don't be afraid,” you told him with a grin, moving past him to open the back door. Clouseau dove out the moment it opened wide enough, nearly toppling you and Abby.

 

“Clue, stop!” Abby yelled as Clouseau jumped up and started lathering the two of you with kisses. You pushed him away and repeated the command between laughs and eventually he relented, moving his attention to Frisk and the skeleton.

 

He circled them a few times, sniffing at their feet and legs, before coming to a stop in front of Frisk. You got Abby settled in the car while Frisk pet Clouseau, giggling silently when he licked their hand. When it was Frisk's turn to get into the car, Clouseau was left alone with the skeleton.

 

What followed reminded you of the standoffs you'd seen in old western movies. The skeleton stared at Clouseau, who's head was tilting from side to side as though he was trying to come to a decision. There was a bead of sweat on the monster's forehead and his smile was tense. He'd shoved his hands back into his pockets.

 

Suddenly the dog stood up and dropped all his weight on the skeleton's shoulders. He stumbled a bit to compensate and his smile twitched as Clouseau's face got close to his own. The dog and skeleton stared at each other, one curious and one wary(understandably, bones were a dog's favorite treat, after all). You felt a pang of worry as the skeleton readied himself to react to whatever Clouseau decided to do.

 

Though, he clearly hadn't expected Clouseau to sneeze directly into his face.

 

You and the children roared with laughter at the dumbfounded look on his wet face as Clouseau hopped down and clambered back into the vehicle, apparently done with his assessment of the skeleton. You had to lean against the car, for fear of falling over, and the children would have been rolling around if they weren't buckled in.

 

“ _Snot_ funny,” he grumbled after a moment, pouting and looking away. The blush was back in full force.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” you said once you'd calmed down enough to form coherent words. You reached past Frisk to grab one of the towels you knew were piled up in the mess of your trunk and handed it over to the skeleton, who was futilely trying to wipe away the mess with his bony hands. He took it with a quiet 'thanks'.

 

“C'mon, bone-man,” you said once he'd finished wiping his face. You tossed the towel back into the trunk and climbed into the drivers seat while he walked around and hopped into the passenger's seat.

 

“It's Sans,” he said once the door closed. You blinked at him, pausing in starting the car.

 

“My name,” he added on. “It's Sans.”

 

“Oh!” _Like the font?_ , you wondered. “Mine's Emily.”

 

"Pretty name for a pretty girl," he said. You felt your face heat up - you weren't used to comments like that - while Abby and Frisk gagged behind you. You shot them a scowl through the rear-view mirror, though it had no effect.

 

He chuckled at you and you huffed as you started the car, backing out and leaving the lot. He pulled out his phone and tapped at it before looking at you. He gave you directions to his house, which turned out being only a few block from your own.

 

The ride was about fifteen minutes long. You played your niece's iPod, which both she and Frisk seemed to enjoy, and chatted idly with Sans. He told you about his brother and how often he trained with his friend Undyne, who was apparently a fitness fanatic(a fish after your own heart, apparently), and you laughed as he told stories of their 'escapades'.

 

You'd have to be careful if you ever ended up in the kitchen with either of them...

 

Soon enough you were in the brothers' driveway and Frisk was trying to get out of the car without letting Clouseau out and Abby was snoozing. Sans got out to assist the child and once he succeeded, they took off for the front door.

 

Sans was about to follow them, but he stopped by the passenger window and looked at you.

 

“So...” he was blushing again, though not as brightly as before. He ran his hand over the back of his skull and gave you a nervous smile. “You, uh, doin' anything tomorrow?”

 

You blushed again. Was he asking you out? You were about to say no when you stopped. Tomorrow was Thursday; you had a class at noon followed by a five hour shift at the VA clinic. You winced, and you could see his face falling a bit.

 

“I'm free on Friday,” you said, giving him a hopeful smile. His face lit right back up and he nodded.

 

“Friday it is, then.”

 

You exchanged numbers then, and watched him walk to his door. There was a bounce in his step and you giggled as you pulled out of his driveway and headed home.

 

You were eagerly looking forward to Friday.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hell for me to write, but I finally got it somewhere I was happy with it, so please enjoy~
> 
> I'm gonna try and get chapters out once a week, but no promises. Some will take longer than others and if I force myself into a schedule I'll burn myself out. So thank you if you decide to stick around!


	3. Mac n' Cheese and Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for dinner. And a proper hair cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for fic updates and pictures, check my [tumblr](http://phasart.tumblr.com/)

You waited in the car for a few minutes when you returned home while Abby and Clouseau raced for the front door of your house.

 

You were still reeling from being asked out. You hadn't been on a date since... You fiddled with your necklace and frowned. Did you even know _how_ to date anymore? It had been so long you weren't sure you'd be good at it. You hardly remembered what it was like at all.

 

Did you even have anything to wear? Your wardrobe consisted of workout clothes and scrubs, mainly. Maybe you could dig out a pair of jeans? If you had any, that was.

 

Or maybe you should just do some shopping before class tomorrow.

 

Gosh, maybe this was a bad idea...

 

You were shocked from your thoughts suddenly when your phone pinged. There was a second ping as you picked it up and when you turned it on you found two texts from Sans.

 

**'hey'**

 

**'whats a skeletons favorite instrument?'**

 

You laughed.

 

 **'Too easy, a tromBONE,'** you sent back. **'or, alternatively, BONEgos.'**

 

You'd been in two anatomy classes since you started at your university last year, and you had learned all of the jokes. He'd have to try harder if he wanted to stump you.

 

Sliding the phone into your bag, you grabbed it and Abby's and left the vehicle, locking it behind you with a beep.

Once you entered your home, you dropped the bags and your keys on the half-moon hall table and hung your coat up on the hook before going to find Abby.

 

She was in the den, with the TV on, though muted, as she worked through one of your many puzzle books. Clouseau was lying on the couch, he attention alternating between her and whatever the colorful cartoon she had on was.

 

Satisfied that the two of them were fine and unlikely to get into any trouble, you headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

 

You pulled out the necessary ingredients and got started by setting a pot on to boil and pulling out a skillet to cook the bacon.

 

It didn't take long for the smell of bacon to fill the air, and even less for Clouseau to notice. You shook you head at the sound of his nails click-clacking against your hardwood floor as he raced into the kitchen, lost his footing on the slick linoleum, and skidded directly into the fridge with a _thud_.

 

“You alright, Clue?” you ask. The old animal clambered to his feet, shook it off and woofed. Apparently he was fine. He moved to sit next to you, much more carefully.

 

“You know you're not allowed any,” you told him when started begging. He whined pitifully and you gently pushed him away.

 

“You'll get a treat later, now shoo,” you stated firmly, pointing out the door. He tried one more time, brown eyes wide and vulnerable, but you didn't budge. So, with an irritated huff, he stood up and shuffled out of the kitchen. Abby would give him the attention and pampering he wanted.

 

Your bacon finished cooking about then, so you set it aside and poured the noodles into the boiling water. You threw a pinch of salt in with them and then set the lid down. It would take about ten minutes to cook properly.

 

So you grabbed a can of Schweppes, set the oven to pre-heat, and sat down at the table. Your phone was there, you noticed. Setting down the can, you pulled the device towards yourself and flicked it on; there were two more texts from Sans.

 

“Heh, thanks Gaster,” you said, apparently to no-one. The shadows behind you shifted, however, and when you looked back you could see a please smile on the barely-visible cracked face.

 

**'bonegos huh? never thought of that... good one'**

 

**'you got any better?'**

 

You sure did.

 

 **'Why are graveyards so noisy?'** you sent. Almost immediately, you got a response.

 

**'why'**

 

**'Because of all the coffin.'**

 

There were a few minutes of silence after that one, which you hoped meant that Sans was probably cracking up over your amazing joke.

 

The phone pinged again as Sans sent another message.

 

**'that was great, had to tell papyrus'**

 

**'What did he think?'**

 

**'he found it humerus'**

 

You gave an ugly snort at that, and you felt your shadow friend shifting in amusement. He winked out of existence for a moment and then appeared against the wall next to your stove.

 

The noodles must be done.

 

You dropped the phone on the table, next to your unfinished can, and went back to work. Pulling out a casserole dish as you passed the cupboard, you set it on the counter next to the stove and then pulled the noddles off the flame.

 

When you went to strain the noodles, Gaster must've decided to help. Turning back around, you found there was already a layer of shredded cheese and crumbled bacon lining the bottom of the glass dish. The two of you worked together to neatly layer the noodles, cheese, and bacon in the pan and then you sprinkled some bread crumbs on top before sliding it into the oven.

 

You set the timer, an adorable egg-shaped one you'd found at a thrift store a few years back, and then went to find Abby. Gaster followed silently behind you.

 

“Abby, go get ready for dinner,” you called down the hall.

 

“Kay!” she called back. There was a moment of silence as she, you hoped, put away what she had been doing. She ran out of the living room and up the stairs, giving you a great view of her ruined hair.

 

You winced when you realized you'd have to cut the rest of it to match... Abby was gonna throw a _fit_ , she loved her long hair. You sighed, tonight was gonna be more of a hassle than you planned...

 

Clouseau padded up next to you and whuffed softly. A quick glance at your watch told you why, it was his snack time.

 

“C'mon, Clue,” you said, turning back into the kitchen and making your way to the fridge. You grabbed a bottle of pills on the way, and then pulled out a half-empty packet of goose liver from the meat drawer of the fridge.

 

Clouseau did his best to stand still, but his rapidly wagging tail had his body swaying from side to side as he drooled in anticipation. You took out a pill and wrapped it in a chunk of the liver before turning to Clouseau.

 

“What do we say?” you asked. He whined for a moment and then barked once, stretching out his right paw.

 

“Good boy,” you praised, handing over the treat which he consumed in one bite. He licked his chops and then sat there, begging for more. You refused, however, and put the meat and pills back where they belonged.

 

Clouseau grumbled, but followed you anyway when you moved on. You still had to give him his dinner, and feed the rest of the house residents before dinner was done.

 

Besides Clouseau, who ate food you made yourself because of his poor digestion, you had two fish(orange and black platys you'd creatively named Napalm and Agent Orange) who received pellets and, once a week as a treat, blood worms, and numerous plants spread out around the house.

 

By the time you had fed and watered them all, the timer had gone off and Abby was zipping down the stairs and into the kitchen, dressed in her favorite Star Wars pajamas.

 

“You washed your hands?” you asked as you pulled the dish out of the oven and set it on the table. You went back to turn off the oven, but G was way ahead of you. You gave him a grateful nod and instead went to gather plates and utensils, which you set out on the table. Lastly, you made a glass of milk for Abby and gave it to her before you started dishing out the meal.

 

Abby bounced restlessly in her seat as you plonked a nice-sized portion on her plate. She dug in as soon as you slid it back to her, and you just knew there was gonna be one heck of a mess to clean up after.

 

Serving yourself a much more modest portion, you sat down and began eating at a slower pace.

 

“Abby,” you started once she'd finished her first helping and went in for more. She paused and looked at you and you almost laughed at the cheesy mess she'd made of her face. Unfortunately, this wasn't going to be a very funny conversation.

 

“I'm going to have to cut the rest of your hair,” you told her straight out; no use beating around the bush.

 

She looked confused for a moment, but quickly became upset.

 

“No you're not!” she said, her voice just below a yell. “It's fine!”

 

“No it's not, and you know it's going to bother you.”

 

“It wont!” Her hands fell flat on the table and she scowled. The effect was slightly lost with the cheese smeared around her lips.

 

You sighed and set your fork down.

 

“Look, I promise to make it as pretty as possible,” you said. She crossed her arms and glared.

 

“You can't!” she declared. “How can I be like princess Leia if I don't have long hair?”

 

“Uh...” You didn't really have an answer for that. You were never in to Star Wars...

 

“Well, what about Rapunzel, you love her too, right?” you asked, trying to goad her. It seemed to work, as she thought about it for a moment.

 

“But I wanna be like Princess Leia...”

 

Getting up, you rounded the table and pulled her into a hug.

 

“You can be like Princess Leia with short hair,” you told her. “Hair doesn't make the princess, it's what's inside that counts.”

 

She mulled that over, but still seemed unsure. You wracked your brain for an idea to help her along.

 

“Besides, it'll grow back.” That's all you could think of, but it seemed to work. She looked at you like you'd just told her the secret of life.

 

“It will?”

 

“Well yeah, that's what hair does. It grows.”

 

“Oh...”

 

She pulled away from you and sat down heavily. She looked positively bewildered. Unsure of what to do, you just put that second helping of mac n' cheese on her plate and then sat back down.

 

There was a long minute of silence during which both of you had gone back to quietly eating.

 

“Will it hurt?” Abby asked eventually. You blinked.

 

“No...” You were starting to wonder...

 

“...Abby, have you ever had a hair cut before?” you asked. She shrugged and shifted her food around on her plate.

 

“I don't remember,” she said. “Mom likes my hair long so I don't remember ever getting it cut.”

 

That explained it – Kim always was a weird one. You often wondered how she and your brother had ever gotten close enough to get married in the first place.

 

“Oh... well I can promise you, you wont feel a thing. And it'll all be back in no time.”

 

“Pinkie promise?”

 

“Pinkie promise,” you agreed, reaching across the table to curl your pinkie around hers. You winked at each other and then pulled away. She seemed a lot calmer now and you were a little excited to see what she'd look like after it was done.

 

The rest of the meal and dessert passed quickly after that, filled with your niece's chatter about the rest of her day and how the class called her a hero for decking Charlie.

 

Apparently the child had been a pain in the neck to all of them.

 

Getting up to put the dirty dishes away, you saw Gaster's shadow move out of the room and down the hall. Clouseau, who had been lying under the table, jumped up and raced after him. There was a moment of silence, followed by loud clattering and barking from the bathroom that had both you and Abby wincing.

 

“What was that?” she asked. You looked back and saw her standing in the chair.

 

“That's a chair, not a stool,” you said, jabbing your finger towards the floor. She pouted, but complied. She slid off the chair and ran for the living room, dodging around Clouseau as the dog came sauntering in with a pair of scissors between his teeth.

 

“Oh, thank you, Clue,” you praised, taking the scissors. You gave him a quick scratch behind the ears and then turned around to grab one of the chairs and drag it into the living room.

 

“Pick a movie and have a seat, Abs,” you said, setting the chair in front of the TV. You went to the bathroom to grab some towels and a comb. When you got back to the living room, you found Abby in the chair and the title screen for Kung Fu Panda 2 on the television.

 

“Going out of order?” you asked. You set a towel on the floor beneath the chair and draped the other one across her shoulders.

 

“I like Shen,” she said.

 

“You like peacocks?” You hit play and started combing through her hair.

 

“They're my favorite animal!”

 

It didn't take long for her to get absorbed in the film, and when you noticed her focus was on it entirely, you got to work.

 

The sound of the scissors cutting hair could barely be heard over the volume of the movie, and Abby didn't react aside from stiffening up when you got to close to her ears.

 

By the time the movie was at it's half-way point you were done. The hair had been cut so short, and you had to cut the rest to match, that she ended up with a rather cute pixie cut. You'd kept her bangs longer and swept to the sides to frame her face, while the back was short and shaggy.

 

“My head feels light,” she said when you pulled the towel off her shoulders and started sweeping away errant shavings.

 

“That was a lot of hair,” you told her. “Do you want to see what it looks like? I'll pause the movie.”

 

Abby nodded and jumped of the chair while you grabbed the remote. She ran into the bathroom and a few seconds later started squealing in delight.

 

“It's so cute!” she shouted. You laughed and got to work cleaning up the mess, thankful, for once, that your living room had hardwood floor as it made sweeping up the piles of hair incredibly easy.

 

Abby came running back into the room just as you finished dumping the hair into the garbage and threw her arms around your hips in a tight hug. You swept her up and hugged her.

 

“You like it?” you asked.

 

“I _love_ it!” she squealed again.

 

“Great! Now, lets get back to that movie, hm?” Abby nodded and hopped out of your arms. You put the movie back on and picked up the chair to take back to the kitchen.

 

You met Gaster in there, holding your phone with no hands. The shadow in the wall that had followed you around for the last four years dropped the phone in your hand once you put the chair away and you thanked him again.

 

He followed you back to the living room and settled himself in a corner to watch the rest of the movie. You dropped yourself on the couch next to Abby, who immediately snuggled up to your side. You wrapped an arm around her shoulders and turned on your phone with the other.

 

**'hows 7?'**

 

 **'Sounds good, where are we going?'** you sent back.

 

**'let's just call it the hottest place in town'**

 

**'send me your address and i'll pick you up'**

 

Now you were curious, but you left it alone for now. Surprises were always fun. You sent him your address, said goodnight, and then set the phone aside. You turned your focus back to the movie.

 

Half an hour later the credits were rolling and Abby was fast asleep, leaning on Clouseau who had jumped onto the couch not too long ago.

 

“Let's go, hon,” you mumbled, gently lifting the girl's tiny body into your arms and heading towards her room. Clouseau gave you a dirty look as you left for taking his heat source away.

 

Abby mumbled something in her sleep and wiggled around until you made it to her room and deposited her in her bed. She snuggled into her pillow and you tucked her in with a smile. She looked so peaceful as she slept, and all the upset from today had faded away to pleasant dreams. You ran your hand through her hair and layed a kiss on her forehead.

 

“Sweet dreams,” you whispered before shuffling quietly out of her room.

 

You made a final round of the house, making sure the TV, stove, and lights were all off. You straightened up the couch, cleaned and put away the dishes, and then took yourself up to your room.

 

You didn't bother changing again, you just tossed your pants aside and collapsed onto the comforter with a pleased sigh.

 

Not a moment later you were fast asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic was a little difficult to write, so I'm sorry if it seems awkward... I wanted to show a bit of Emily's home life before we got into the fun stuff. Next chapter will have a little more, but Sans should be showing up again if all goes well.
> 
> If you notice any errors, please feel free to tell me.


	4. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your date with Sans is tomorrow, but before you can have fun, there are some things you need to do.

You were woken up early the next morning by your phone's ringtone. An irritating, whining, techno sound that indicated your brother was calling.

 

It took you a moment to realize what it was as your sleep-addled mind tried to come to terms with the fact that it was no longer actually asleep. You curled up under your comforter and moaned as the ringing persisted.

 

With a groan, you exited your cocoon, rolled over, and grabbed the infernal device off your bedside table, setting it to speaker.

 

“What do you want, Alex?” you answered without looking, your voice hoarse with sleep. Your mouth was dry and sticky and you licked your lips trying to wet it, only to grimace at the nasty taste.

 

“What, no hello?” You decided to actually look at the phone and you groaned louder.

 

“It's not even six am, _what do you want_?”

 

You heard him sigh on the other end and you could tell whatever it was wouldn't make you happy.

 

“I'm being sent on a business trip Monday...” he started, and you rolled your eyes; of course he was, “and I'm gonna need you to watch Abby for a few weeks.”

 

“What about Kim?” you asked, referring to the girl's mother.

 

“She left for Milan on Tuesday.” You groaned loudly again and rolled away from the phone.

 

“C'mon, Emily, I know you love watching her anyway.”

 

You grabbed the phone and glared at it, wishing it was him so you could at least attempt to set him on fire with the look. Time drew on for a minute as you debated on what to do.

 

“Fine, I'll watch Abby,” you finally agreed. You heard him take a breath to thank you, but you spoke again before he could.

 

“But you're telling her.” You could practically see his wince.

 

“But Em-”

 

“I'm going on a date tomorrow, and you will spend the _entire_ day with _your_ daughter and _you_ will tell her _yourself_ ,” you said firmly. You hung up before he could reply and tossed the phone away, intent to get back to sleep.

 

Unfortunately, you had only just managed to start drifting off again when your niece decided to come barreling into your room and diving into your bed, landing directly on top of you and drawing a strangled ' _oomph!'_

 

“Abbyyyyy,” you wined in protest, dragging the blanket over your head.

 

“C'mon, I gotta get ready for school!” she announced, bouncing impatiently beside you. You peaked out from the covers and spied Gaster on the wall across from you, sniggering at you. You sent him a scowl before rolling over and grabbing your hyperactive niece. She shrieked in laughter and struggled to get away as you snuggled up to her and buried your face in her shaggy hair.

 

“Don'ave school, 'mmber?” you mumbled. She paused and seemed to think back to yesterday.

 

“Is that what suspended means?” she asked you. You nodded and finally sat up, letting out a huge yawn and stretching your arms as far above your head as you could until you felt your spine crack.

 

Abby gave you a disgusted frown and you chuckled.

 

“What? I'm old.”

 

“You're only 25,” she said flatly.

 

“Still older than you. And yes, that's what suspended means.”

 

Resigning yourself to the waking world, you slipped out from under your covers and headed towards your walk-in closet. Gaster followed you to the door and then waited there, watching Abby who had gone back to bouncing.

 

“So I got no school for five days?” she asked. You pulled off your shirt and started looking for something to wear. You dug through piles of washed-out jeans and scrubs and frowned. You really had _no_ good clothes.

 

“That's right,” you said. Then you stopped. Five days without school and without parents... with you watching her 24/7. You groaned. That meant taking her to class and to work, _for a whole week._

 

You began to wonder if you would survive. You made a mental note to buy her some things to keep her occupied.

 

“So I get a vacation?” She sounded confused, and you couldn't blame her. Getting a vacation for punching someone seemed a little mixed up, and it was something you'd never understood either.

 

“Well, from school anyway,” you called back as you pulled a plain blue t-shirt over your head and then moved to dig out some _clean_ jeans.

 

“But you did break the rules and, proud of you as I am for standing up for yourself, I will be enforcing some rules for the next week.” You chuckled when you heard her exaggerated whine. Grabbing a worn hoodie off a stool, you exited the closet.

 

You picked her up off the bed and deposited her on the floor so you could straighten the sheets.

“Go on and get dressed,” you said. She nodded and ran down the hall to her room. You grabbed your phone and headed downstairs to make breakfast.

 

Once you got to the fridge you looked inside and grabbed the egg carton. You set it on the counter and looked back at the fridge, wondering what you could add. You'd put bacon in last night's dinner, so you wanted to avoid that for breakfast.

 

“What d'you think, G?” you asked, looking at the shadow who stood beside the fridge. He seemed to shrug.

 

You sighed and opened the fridge again, Shifting through the items inside, you found a bag of spiralized sweet potato you'd made two days earlier and a jar of hollandaise sauce.

 

“Eggs Benedict it is,” you decided, setting the items next to the eggs. You took out two skillets and set about making your very modified version of the breakfast classic.

 

Abby came skipping down the stairs and into the kitchen, dressed in a pink sweater and a pair of green jeans tucked into yellow rain boots. You raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, letting her wear what she wanted.

 

“We're going shopping this morning,” you told her as you set the plate and utensils on the table. She climbed into the seat and immediately dug in. You poured her and yourself some orange juice and then sat across from her.

 

“After that, you're coming to class and work with me so bring something to do.” She hummed around her food, her cheeks puffed out like a hamsters, and you chuckled. She made an adorable, if somewhat disgusting, picture.

 

It didn't take you long to finish your breakfast, and Abby didn't wait around for you to clean up. She immediately went up to her room an you heard her shuffling through her things, hopefully looking for things to do today.

 

You put the dishes into the dishwasher and headed out to the living room. The stores wouldn't be open for another hour or so, so you had time to kill. You flopped yourself onto the couch and turned on the TV, flipping to the local news channel.

 

There was a report about the local retirement home holding a bridge tournament for charity, there had been a high-speed chase down I-480 sometime after you'd gone to bed(luckily no one had been injured), and the same anti-monster rally outside Town Hall that had been going on for the last week, with no results.

 

You rolled your eyes. Three years ago monsters had emerged from underground and while things had been tense at first, most of humanity had more important things to worry about and had moved on with their lives. You, personally, hadn't even known about the monsters until about a year after their release, when the news finally reached your station on the USS Treemont.

 

The only people who really seemed to care were extremists like the KKK and other, mostly religious, groups, who had spoken out against them more than once since they'd emerged. And while a good portion of society either didn't care, or fully embraced their new neighbors, there was a disconcerting amount of people who hated them.

 

A nation-wide group had been brought together by this hate, forming the Anti-Monster Alliance, or the AMA as they liked to call themselves. Their mission was to harass monsters so they'd... what, disappear? You weren't sure, and they hadn't been very clear in their messages. To you, it seemed like they hated just for the sake of it.

 

When it came to violence, the AMA seemed to favor one form of attack: arson. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd turned on the news only to find another report of a monster's home or business being fire bombed.

 

When you heard Abby coming back downstairs, you flipped the channel over to something child friendly. Disney Channel was playing a marathon of Sophia The First, so you left it on that and turned your attention to your phone.

 

Sans had sent you another text.

 

**'why did the donut maker retire?'**

 

Food jokes, huh? You could get behind that. Abby sat beside you while you sent your response.

 

**'I don't know, why?'**

 

You then decided to check your Facebook feed. Your brother had yet to post anything about his upcoming business trip, but Kim's page was chock full of pictures from hers. She was posting 'teaser' photos of some of the designs she'd be showcasing next month.

 

You had friends posting status updates; Patrick from work had posted photos from his night out and you sighed. He was gonna be hell to work with if he still had his hangover this afternoon. The rest were posting inconsequential rubbish that didn't interest you.

 

Your phone pinged as Sans sent his response:

 

**'because he was fed up with the hole business'**

 

You gave a chuckle, and when Abby asked what you were laughing at, you showed her the texts. She found them incredibly amusing if her roaring laughter was any indication.

 

**'Nice. Abby loved it.'**

 

There was a pause before he replied.

 

**'abby your daughter's name?'**

 

You blinked and puzzled over the question for a moment before you realized that you hadn't introduced Abby to Sans. That had you laughing harder than the joke, though it was mostly out of embarrassment. Abby gave you a strange look before going back to her puzzles, muttering about 'crazy aunts'.

 

**'Oh no, Abby's not my daughter, she's my niece.'**

 

There was a long moment of nothing after that, during which you got back up to get Clouseau's breakfast ready. Your phone pinged just as you finished filling the dishes, but you decided to wait until your current task was finished.

 

You took the bowls out through the back door, to the patio where Clouseau was resting, cuddled up next to Squatter. The cat in question was curled up rather comfortably under the dog's chin, fast asleep. His bowls were empty, so you retrieved them to bring inside once you'd set down Clouseau's breakfast.

 

You picked up your phone after you slid the bowls into the dishwasher and thumbed it on easily, leaning against the counter to read.

 

**'so what are you doin up so early?'**

 

You laughed at the non sequitur, but didn't call him out on it. You'd asked your fair share of awkward questions in the past, after all.

 

 **'Abby doesn't understand the concept of sleeping in.'** You realized you should have expected that last night, she always had more energy than she knew what to do with.

 

It was just as well, you decided. More time for shopping.

 

Speaking of which, the clock on your phone showed you it was almost 8am, the stores would be opening soon.

 

Pocketing your phone, you grabbed your purse and keys and ushered Abby into the car. She went along without much fuss, too focused on her puzzles to really care. After a quick run around the house to be sure everything was turned off, the two of you headed out.

 

The JC Penny's you'd arrived at was blissfully empty, thanks to the early hour, so Abby's mad dash around the building to pick out her idea of the 'perfect date outfit' didn't bother you as much as it normally would have.

 

So far, however, every dress Abby had chosen seemed more fitted towards something like the Oscars than a simple first date. You'd had to turn down at least ten designer dresses, explaining each time that you needed something simpler before she seemed to get the idea.

 

Or at least, that's what you hoped as your browsed through the clearance section for a few more articles to diversify your bland wardrobe. You'd seen her running back and forth ahead of you, looking through racks with that adorably pinched look she always got when she was thinking hard about something.

 

You had just placed a rather cute blue cardigan in your cart and decided to be done with that when she ran back up to you with something red flying behind her.

 

“Aunty Em, I got it!” she declare, proudly thrusting a rusty red garment into your face. You took a step back to get a better look at it and hummed thoughtfully.

 

It was a knit dress that looked like it would reach about mid-thigh on you. The sleeves were long, the collar was wide, and it came with a cute black belt around the middle. If you wore it with a pair of leggings and those leather boots you'd bought in Texas last year it might actually look cute.

 

“It's perfect, Abs,” you told her, taking it and placing it on top of your pile. She cheered in success and fist-pumped while you laughed and headed towards the register.

 

After paying for your clothes the two of you headed to your university. You had one class today, thankfully, and it would be a short one.

 

Thankfully it had gone by fast and easy. Abby had been distracted by her puzzles and you hadn't stuck around after the pop quiz your teacher had promised last week.

 

You stopped at Taco Bell for lunch; not your first choice for a meal but you were in a hurry to get to work and didn't have time to find anything more healthy. The two of you ate your meal in the car as you drove.

 

When you arrived at the clinic, you set Abby up in the employee lounge with your cell phone and tablet since you knew even puzzles wouldn't hold her attention for five whole hours. You ran into Patrick as you were punching in and just barely held back a groan as the man draped himself over you.

 

He could give that Mettaton guy a run for his money.

 

“ _Emily_ ,” he whined in you ear. “I missed you!”

 

You rolled your eyes and shoved him off of you so you could go change into your scrubs.

 

“You say that like you don't see me every day.”

 

“Emily, dear,” he tutted at you as you slipped into the bathroom, “light of my life, music of my soul-”

 

“Can you _be_ any cheesier?”

 

“Every moment we're apart is _agony_!”

 

“Apparently you can.” You stopped at the sink counter to apply your makeup; expertly doing so while steadfastly ignoring your own reflection, as you had been doing for the last four years.

 

“Why don't you just come and elope with me already, you already know we'd be absolutely perfect together!”

 

“As much as I'd love to,” you said as you put your makeup bag away and stepped back out of the bathroom in your bubblegum pink scrubs, “I think your husband might object.”

 

Patrick took a step back and put and finger to his chin in thought.

 

“Yes, I see your point. Well then, you'll just have to be my mistress then, he'll never know.”

 

“No can do, champ. I'm nobody's side chick.” You got no small amount of amusement out of the visible way he deflated. You left him there to brood over it while you packed up your clothes and then headed out to the reception desk to relieve Janice.

 

Normally you'd be working with the patients at the clinic, but due to a last minute call off by the normal second-shift receptionist, you had been assigned her position today.

 

An hour into answering calls and directing clients, Patrick walked up to the desk and leaned against it, clearly over his previous heartbreak.

 

“Darling, Chris wants to know if you'll be joining us for drinks and karaoke tomorrow,” he asked, waving his had around dismissively as though it was silly to even ask.

 

Which, normally, it might be, since you'd gone for drinks with Patrick and his husband every Friday night since you'd begun working at the clinic last year.

 

“Actually... I can't,” you told him slowly, turning away to type some nonsense into the computer. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him fumble around.

 

“W-wait, you-are you telling me you have _plans_!? _Are you replacing me!?_ ” he practically shrieked, bringing the attention of everyone in the lobby on to you. You felt your face burning with embarrassment at the predicament so picked up a folder and slapped him with it.

 

“ _No_ , you idiot! I'm not replacing you!” you hissed, glaring at him with enough venom that he actually looked slightly afraid. You took a deep breath and tried to calm down, pushing your seat away from him and setting the folder back down. You're blush didn't recede at all, however, and you could feel Patrick staring at you curiously.

 

“I... may have a date.”

 

The squeal that Patrick released was the kind of sound you'd only heard uttered by very small children before now and so it caught you incredibly off-guard and you weren't able to prepare for the hug he swept you up in. A rather incredible feat, considering he was a foot shorter and 50 pounds lighter than you.

 

“Oh, that's wonderful news!” he cried, attempting valiantly to spin you around. You broke free from his grasp easily enough once the surprise wore off, however, but he was already off muttering to himself.

 

“Oh, I simply must meet this person! And Chris will want to meet them too, of course. We'll need to do a full background check, you know how Chris is, the dear. Oh he'll be so excited. We were so worried you'd be alone forever, you know...”

 

You watched, slightly stunned, as he pulled out his phone and walked away to call his husband and share the apparently apocalyptic news.

 

“Well that was... _Patrick_ ,” you muttered, blinking as he disappeared around a corner. You tried to shake off the unusual, but not entirely out of character encounter and got back to work.

 

The next few hours passed by quickly. Abby came out halfway through, holding your phone and giggling about a joke war she'd apparently gotten into with Sans. You had to admit, your niece had some really good jokes, even if some of them didn't make much sense.

 

She hung out with you at the reception desk for the last few hours of your shift and by the time six o'clock rolled around, she was already nodding off in your lap.

 

You rushed yourself through clocking out. You didn't want to take too long getting Abby to her father's, since she seemed so exhausted. You threw your things into your bag, threw your bag over your shoulder, and scooped your sleepy niece up in your arms.

 

“Aren't you a little old for nap times?” you asked her. It was barely half past six, no ten year-old should be this tired this early.

 

She just grumbled and buried her face in your shoulder.

 

You weren't surprised, really, that she was so tired. Sure, it was still rather early to you, but she had been up for almost twelve straight hours. You were honestly more shocked she hadn't fallen asleep before now.

 

So you did your best not to jostle her too much as you set her in the car and buckled her in. It took you no less than 45 minutes to reach your brother's house, an ostentatious two story monstrosity with pillars and too many windows that was far to big for the three people who barely lived there.

 

You supposed you didn't have much room to speak, your own house had four bedrooms, but at least you lived in it year round.

 

Abby didn't stir at all when you finally parked and pulled her and her bag out of the car. It was just starting to get dark outside as you knocked on the door.

 

It opened after a moment to reveal your very grumpy looking brother. He must've been napping, if the messy hair and ruffled clothes were any indication. He scowled at you and then glanced down at his daughter.

 

“I thought I only had her tomorrow?”

 

The only thing stoping you from slapping your brother was the fact that Abby was still sound asleep in your arms. Instead, you just gave him a very unimpressed glared.

 

“She's you're daughter, jackass, and I am not part of a custody agreement here,” you hissed. His scowl remained, but he gently pulled her out of your arms and you followed him into the foyer.

 

“Just... drop her stuff there. When are you picking her up?”

 

You rolled your eyes, not even five minutes into your visit and you were already fed up with this man. But then, what else was new?

 

“Saturday. Sometime around noon, I suppose.” He nodded and started down the hall towards Abby's bedroom.

 

“I'll make sure she's ready.”

 

You shook your head and leaned against the foyer wall while you waited for him to situate Abby. It took a little while, and you could hear her start fussing a few minutes in. It didn't get too loud though, so you didn't feel the need to step in just yet.

 

When he finally emerged and headed back down the hall, he seemed startled to see you.

 

“What are you still doing here?” he asked.

 

You opened your mouth to give him a, probably offensive at this point, reply, but thought better of it.

 

“I don't know, maybe I just wanted to see my big brother,” you finally said with a shrug. “But I guess it's just a waste of both our times.”

 

He winced, and you felt both smug and upset about it. Why couldn't you have a normal relationship with your brother.

 

“Look, ah...” you started, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “I'll be taking Abby out to lunch on Saturday. Do you... want to come?”

 

For a split second, it looked like he might say yes and you let a little bit of hope swell in you; not only for yourself, but for Abby as well. But, the next moment he was shaking his head.

 

“I can't, I have some last minute quarter reports to go over before I leave on Monday and with you making me spend all of Friday with Abby, I just wont have the time.”

 

Of course it was your fault, wasn't it? Why had you expected any different?

 

“Nevermind,” you muttered, turning away from him and pulling the door back open. “Just do me a favor and at least _try_ to have fun with your daughter tomorrow.”

 

With that, you exited the residence and made your way home, desperately trying to forget about the entire experience and the memories it dragged up.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get this chapter out was like trying to shit when you're constipated, and I almost gave myself a hernia.
> 
> Not exactly what I wanted to happen this chapter. I wanted to get to the date, but too much ended happening before it. Plus there's one more chapter but don't worry, guys, you'll have plenty of Sans in chapter 5 because it'll be entirely from his point of view.
> 
> I realized through these first few chapters that some things seem kind of odd or kind of random and without another POV(ie Sans') some things just wont make sense, so that's what you'll be getting next chapter
> 
> Don't worry though, you won't be getting all the answers that easily ;P


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